Aliento Features: Fatima Villalpa
Hi! My name is Fatima Villalpa, and I’m a senior at NFL Yet College Prep. I’m passionate about learning, growth, and giving back to my community. Outside the classroom, you’ll usually find me on the volleyball court or watching Toy Story — my all-time favorite movie! Being part of the Arizona’s Future Fellowship has been an incredible journey so far, and I’m excited to share how it’s shaping my path and inspiring my future.
“Hurry up, Mom!” I’d yell, darting down the hallway to hide in my childhood sanctuary: a bubblegum-pink princess tent where my mom and I played make-believe for hours. That tent—filled with Legos and laughter—symbolized the joy my family fought to protect. Growing up in a mixed-status household, I learned early that resilience isn’t just surviving hardship; it’s turning pain into purpose. My mother and grandmother taught me this daily through their quiet strength, working tirelessly to shield me from the weight of systemic barriers.
Advocating with Aliento isn’t abstract—it’s personal. Policies like Prop 314, which impact families like mine, became battlegrounds where I saw how harmful rhetoric translates into real harm. Campaigning against it, I knocked on doors in Arizona heat, shared stories, and rallied classmates who’d never engaged with policy before. The setbacks were grueling, but I’d think of my mom’s sacrifices. Even when we lost, we proved that resistance is its own victory.
My favorite memories with Aliento are the raw ones: canvassing neighborhoods with my fellows, sweating under the desert sun while laughing over shared snacks. Those moments stripped away formalities—we talked about everything from class to the fears we carried for our families. I learned that passion isn’t always loud; sometimes, it’s the quiet determination in someone’s voice. I’m most proud of pulling my classmates out of their bubbles.
Convincing them to attend Education Day (E-Day) wasn’t easy—many had never spoken to a legislator or shared their stories publicly. But when they stood beside me at the Capitol, demanding equity for our community, I saw their hesitation turn into fire. One friend whispered, “I didn’t know my voice could matter like this.”
Then there was the Christmas closing party—a night that crystallized why this work endures. After months of defeats and small wins, we gathered in a room strung with fairy lights, swapping stories over pan dulce. No agendas, no speeches—just us celebrating the stubborn hope that binds us.
To anyone considering Aliento’s fellowship: If you’re ready to trade anxiety for action—join us. This work isn’t for the half-hearted. It’s for those willing to knock on doors in the heat, sit through endless Zoom strategy meetings, and stare down policymakers with stories that crack their complacency. The fellowship teaches you to turn pain into policy, but it’ll also give you a community that feels like home. You’ll learn to have tough conversations—not just with legislators, but with peers who think “politics doesn’t affect us.” As a daughter of immigrants, I’ve learned that advocacy isn’t optional—it’s survival.
This May, I’ll end my senior year at NFL YET College Prep ready for the next chapter. Next fall, I’ll attend Amherst College in Massachusetts, double-majoring in Economics and Political Science. I plan to amplify immigrant narratives in spaces where our contributions are overlooked. Whether through policy, grassroots organizing, or simply refusing to let others speak over my community, I’ll keep fighting. My family’s resilience—my mom’s quiet grit, my grandma’s unwavering faith—fuels me. Together, we are rewriting the narrative, one tough conversation at a time.
